


Spaces Between

by stardustings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Casual Sex, Dissociation, Drug Use, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sirius is a philosophy major, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustings/pseuds/stardustings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus is gone. Which is to be expected. Remus is always gone, slipping away into the moonlight and shadows, leaving Sirius to wake up alone again. At least he waits until Sirius falls asleep to go. </p><p>Sirius craves another cigarette and tries not to think about the way it all makes him ache.</p><p>(References Sirius's family, their past abuse, and implies complex ptsd, dissociation, depression. Also, smoking, drinking, drug use... I want to say it's not as depressing as it sounds but maybe it is.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaces Between

**Author's Note:**

> I sometimes read about why people don't ship Sirius & Remus, and quite often it's pointed out that these two didn't really have the best relationship in pre-war canon. A lack of trust and any evidence of closeness is frequently cited, among other things, and I find it very interesting. So I wanted to play with the idea that they weren't always that close and had a relationship based more off of proximity, and because I'm me I wanted to wrap it up in all my weird philosophy feelings and some angst. I just really wanted something different, because as much as I love the status quo for writing this relationship, I think there's a lot left to explore with these two. 
> 
> Mostly just want to try things out. Like being really pretentious. I wrote this over only a couple of days when I was a bit tired and emotional. You can likely tell.
> 
> (Also, I might re-write the ending someday, because I'm not very satisfied with it, but I need to get this out so I stop tinkering with it as a method of procrastination.)

 

 

Sirius wakes slowly, his senses drifting idly back to the conscious world. The softness of his bedsheets, his naked body, the light that filters through a crack in his drawn curtains. The dull, aching haze in his skull. A hangover. He swallows, and his throat feels raw and dry - too many cigarettes last night - and when he rolls over...

Remus is gone. Which is to be expected. Remus is always gone, slipping away into the moonlight and shadows, leaving Sirius to wake up alone again. At least he waits until Sirius falls asleep to go. 

Sirius craves another cigarette and tries not to think about the way it all makes him ache.

 

-

 

There are days when the countless, relentless philosophies begin to make Sirius feel like his chest his caving in. A head full of impossible questions and nothing but the convictions of his own, pathetic heart. How can he trust such an unreliable thing? Love. Faith. Power. Human nature. 

When he felt good, philosophy felt like moving forward. It felt like fearlessness, striking the very core of existence, shaking it awake, demanding an answer. 

When he felt bad, philosophy felt like circles. Dizzying, nausea-inducing, never-ending spirals of unhinged begging, sweaty hands clutching at nothing, aching for answers that never present themselves.

Sirius really _is_ an optimist. 

You know, until the days he isn't. 

Let's take love. So lauded, so sought after. Love to raise us up and tear us down. History clung to his skin and it didn't make anything easier. Love has been a violent thing, a pointless experience. 

For instance, it meant nothing when his parents chose love of the arbitrary kind; love as a bargaining tool, love as a punishment. Love as hypervigilance and obsessiveness and slipping out of his own skin. 

The idea of _meaning_ in such a nonsensical, illogical world...

It is laughable, at best.

Once upon a time he'd thought Philosophy was a great idea. Beautiful and harsh and slipping into the cracks of unreality, existing on a level that both mattered and did not matter. Sirius could live in the hypotheticals forever. Was it calming or terrifying? He'd thought it might provide for some answers, but all it ever did was create more.

To be fair, he still thought it was a good idea a lot of the time. It could be fun and interesting and exhilarating and sometimes, yes, it was exhausting. But Sirius was finding everything exhausting lately.

'You okay?' Lily asks him, looking up from the floor of the lounge room, where she lays on her stomach surrounded by a disarray of papers and books, fingers still hovering over her laptop keyboard. 

'Yeah,' says Sirius hollowly from the couch, where he'd just snapped his own laptop shut in frustration, capturing her attention. His head felt too full, and studying from the couch was probably a bad idea because now his neck was aching, dull and slow, seeping down into his spine. 

James would lecture them both about ergonomics if he came home from class and saw them.

Lily raises her eyebrows. 'I'm going to ask you again, and this time please don't lie to me. Sirius, are you okay?'

Sirius is silent for a moment. Then he shrugs his shoulders half-heartedly, slumped against the back of the couch rubbing his neck. 'I don't know. What defines okay?'

'Ugh, philosophy majors,' says Lily rolling her eyes, pulling herself up into a seated position. 

Thing was, Sirius had actually wanted to know her criteria for _okay_. How is it quantified? Could he give her a checklist, maybe? Is okayness as a measure even relevant at all, when the world still turned and life went on no matter what?

Sirius hates himself sometimes. 

'Well, I could use a break,' Lily declares into Sirius's silence. 'I think you could too.'

'I went to see Aberforth the other day?' he suggests, raising his eyebrows in a way he isn't even sure is perceptible. Aberforth was a good dealer, as far as they go. Reliable, discreet. Quality. He was also kind of weird, like he was sometimes only half-there, but, in Sirius's opinion, this just served as a reminder not to overdo it. 'It's really good stuff this time too.'

'You didn't get stoned all by yourself again, did you?' asks Lily, standing up to stretch, arms raised above her head, back arching inward. 

'No, I was with Remus.'

'Oh.' 

Sirius could tell she wants to say something else but Lily closes her mouth and _looks_ at him and then runs her hands through her hair instead.

'Okay let's do this,' she says after a moment. 

 

-

 

'He should stop leaving you like he does,' Lily muses, laying on her back on Sirius's bedroom floor. 

Sirius shrugs beside her, and when he turns his head, she is frowning up at the ceiling.

'It's wrong,' she asserts, turning to meet his eyes. Her eyes are very green and very, heartbreakingly sincere.

'He's _your_ friend,' replies Sirius. 

'Not yours?' asks Lily, and Sirius has to look away, back at the white ceiling.

'Sure, Remus is my friend.' Sirius makes a face. The word doesn't feel right. 'He's my... I don't know. I don't know if he's my anything.'

'He _is_ ,' says Lily fiercely, rolling over onto her stomach, resting her weight on her forearms to look down at Sirius. 'He's just...' She trails off.

'I know,' Sirius says, as Lily deflates and rolls onto her back again. 'Trust me, I know. And it's like, I used to think, God, I don't know. He's so him? And I'm so me? I thought, there's no way I could be enough. But like, fuck, who _is_ gonna be enough, you know? _No one_.'  

'He cares about you.'

Sirius laughs. Probably too much, too loud. 'Anyway, I don't think I care really.' 

He raises his hand in front of him, takes in the light brown skin, watches as he moves his fingers. 'This is me,' he says. 

Lily raises her hand next to his. Her skin is pale white, peppered with freckles. So different to him. 'This is me,' she echoes. 

Sirius reaches over and holds her hand, fingers twined together, coming to rest on the floor between them. 

'You really need to clean your fucking room,' she says after a moment. 

Sirius laughs and she follows, squeezing his hand tightly. 

He was probably going to be okay.

 

-

 

The cafe is crowded around them but Sirius barely notices this when Remus smiles; that pretty, slow smile. And he probably smiles like this at everyone, but Sirius quietly thinks of it as his. 

'It's very tragic, I may die from it,' says Sirius dramatically, and Remus smiles wider, ducking his head. Sirius's melodrama is overcompensation for a childhood that never let him feel a thing, he knows, and he feels so, so aware of it lately, but punching out the limits of what he's finally allowed to express feels good. So he mostly doesn't give a shit.

'You won't die from stress,' replies Remus, adopting that familiar exterior of rational calm. Too late, Sirius thinks, he already gave himself away with the smiling. 

'You're probably right,' says Sirius, brushing his fingers against Remus's hand atop the table. Remus looks down and brushes back, soft. 

Later, they are back at Remus's apartment and Sirius is pressing kisses onto Remus's neck as they back toward the bed. Sirius grazes his teeth on Remus's shoulder, settling on top of him.

'Ah,' Remus breathes. 

Sirius kisses his soft lips, aiming for something close to gentle, but Remus winds his fingers into Sirius's hair, bites Sirius's lip, teases Sirius's mouth open until Sirius can taste the familiar coffee and chocolate and _Remus_ dancing on his tongue. 

 

-

 

'Here,' says Marlene, placing another pint down on the table in front of Sirius and sitting down next to him. 'I thought you could use another.' 

 'Thanks Marls, what'd I do without you?' he asks, turning to smile at her before taking a sip. 

'Get less drunk, have less fun,' she lists, 'spend more time staring at Remus, probably.' She leans to the side, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. 

'I don't stare at him,' Sirius replies. It's such a lie that he can't meet her eye and so he says it into his drink instead. 

Marlene snorts. 

Remus stands over by the bar, deep in conversation with Kingsley, who has rested his hand on Remus's arm as they laugh. Sirius flexes his fingers, thinks about where _they've_ touched Remus, and where he wants to touch Remus now, and there's a fire in his veins lately that won't go away. 

'Want to go for a smoke?' Sirius asks Marlene. He can't stay in here, watching _them_. 

'I'm trying to quit,' replies Marlene, looking hesitant. 'I can come stand with you though?'

'Nah, it's cool, I can go. Good on you, though,' he says, smiling as he stands and pats her on the back.

'Thanks man. Alice started getting at me about it. Then Dorcas joined. I'll bet you're next, watch out.'

'James and Dromeda haven't managed to make it stick thus far, but hey, they're welcome to try.' Sirius shrugs, grinning. 'Be back soon.'

Outside it's colder than he expected. The Hog's Head is always warm to the point of it being borderline uncomfortable on the crowded nights. He pulls his jacket tighter around him and lights his cigarette.

He wanders over to stand directly under the glow of the streetlight because he hates feeling like he's skulking in the dark. The effect is such that he feels like he's skulking in a dull, yellowy light instead. With no one to talk to and nothing interesting to capture his attention, his mind keeps catching on Remus. Remus who laughs in bars with other people and takes them home and doesn't think about Sirius until it's convenient. Sirius's mind can invent any number of scenarios. He hates all of them.

Sirius has barely slept with anyone but Remus in months and he spends too much time trying not to understand how it all makes him feel, because he keeps trying, and there aren't any words that seem adequate. 

And that was the fucking problem with philosophy. Every single second of every single day could be spent needling away at the truth, digging and poking and prodding to try and uncover something, _anything_ that makes a single bit of sense, but Sirius could still find void space within the words and all the little moments they hold. Gaps that language couldn't fill, gaps that overflow with conceptualisms there aren't any names for. Is conceptualisms even a word? Probably not. It sounds like the kind of thing a philosopher would make up, though. 

At some point, though, you have to realise it's all held up by a flimsy illusion of logic. Made up words that make no fucking sense and have no meaning when you really think about it. And you can either choose to keep building it all up, a pointless tower, or you let it all come crashing down. 

For Sirius, this is all a constant, uncomfortable reminder. Because one day soon he's really gonna start falling apart, too.

Sirius finishes his cigarette and still doesn't want to go back inside. He could probably go home, no one would mind. Marlene has Dorcas. Peter had been talking with Alice and Frank last time he checked. Remus was with Kingsley. Which was fine. It was fucking fine. 

'Hey.'

Sirius turns to see Remus. His sandy coloured hair glints under the streetlight and it shouldn't look so nice, but it does. Remus always looks nice. 

'What's up, Moony?' asks Sirius, looking at the door, half-expecting Kingsley to be following. He's not.

'Not much,' replies Remus, shrugging.

'How's Kingsley?' 

Remus stares at him and fuck it, he was having another cigarette.

'He's fine.' Remus watches him light up and take the first drag, before stepping closer to pluck the cigarette from his fingers. And christ, there's something about Remus and his fucking debauchery that sends Sirius into a lust-driven tailspin. 

'Well, you two seemed to be having a nice conversation,' Sirius says to the thin layer of smoke in front of Remus's face. 

'I could say the same to you.' 

'What?'

'You and Marlene.'

'Well, we're friends,' says Sirius, taking back the offerred cigarette.

'So are Kingsley and I,' replies Remus and Sirius feels like he's being tugged in so many directions that he ends up responding with a half-hearted, snorting eye-roll.

'What?'

'Does Kingsley know you're _friends_?' Sirius takes another drag, and he doesn't know why he's being like this when he could kiss Remus right now and probably take him home. 

Sirius is just so tired.

'What do you mean?' asks Remus.

'False naivety doesn't suit you, Moony,' replies Sirius, and the smile on his face feels wrong. 'Not when I know how you look with my dick in your mouth.'

'God, what's your _problem?_ ' Remus asks, and his words are all sharp around the edges. When Sirius looks, Remus is frowning. Sirius deserves this, probably.

Sirius exhales and ignores the way his hands are shaking a little. 'I don't have a problem,' he says. 

Remus sighs and they lock eyes. Sirius so badly wants to kiss him.

'Anyway, are you sure you want to keep Kingsley waiting?' Sirius asks, because he can't stop himself. 

 Remus turns his head away. 'Why are you being like this?'

Sirius was sure there was a time when this all used to involve so much more fun. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was always like this. He'd never been that close with Remus, that's why it had been convenient. It wasn't convenient anymore.

'Sometimes knowing you is torture,' says Sirius, words slipping off his tongue frighteningly easy. 

Remus stares at him, looks about to say something, but then breathes out a spiteful kind of laugh. 'You know what? Fuck you, Sirius.'

Which wasn't exactly what Sirius was expecting. But then, what _had_ he been expecting? 

His heart is beating hard in his chest when Remus turns and walks back inside, and he can hear the thud-thud-thud in his ears underneath the ringing _fuck you_. Too late, Sirius wants to call out a _fuck you, too_ , and wishes he'd had the guts to say it first.  

 

-

 

Gideon is still in Sirius's bed when he wakes up in the morning, a muscular arm thrown around Sirius's waist, and a mess of ginger hair on his pillow. Gideon feels too different to pretend like he's Remus. Sirius is relieved. 

When Gideon wakes up he kisses Sirius lazily, and Sirius strokes his fingers through Gideon's hair. 

'Last night was fun,' says Gideon, pulling away, resting on his side with a smile.

'It was,' agrees Sirius. Gideon likes to joke and laugh and never take anything too seriously, including sex. It's refreshing. 

Gideon's hand is resting on Sirius's hip under the duvet, and Sirius is thinking about leaning over to kiss his neck and how he'd definitely let Gideon's hand skate down his thigh again this morning when there's a knock on his bedroom door.

'Sirius?' It's James. 

Sirius looks at Gideon, eyebrows raised, and Gideon just nods an _it's fine_. 

'Yeah?' 

The door opens.

'Um, Remus is - oh, hey Gid,' says James, and he's smiling but his eyes flick, uncertain, to Sirius.

Behind James stands Remus. Suddenly, Sirius is hyper-aware of how naked he is and how Gideon's fingers are still stroking across his hip. 

'Mornin' James. Remus,' greets Gideon.

Remus just nods.

'We'll uh, be out in a sec, okay?' says Sirius, pulling himself up into a seated position.

'Sure thing,' replies James, closing the door quickly with an apologetic look on his face.

Sirius's phone had chimed with new messages as he was getting dressed. When he checks, they are all from James.

_sorry sorry sorry sorry!!!_

_i didn't realise Gid was here!!!!!!_

_sorry!!!!_

_remus looks annoyed tho_

_if that helps_

'I'll head out,' says Gideon, pulling on his shirt as Sirius texts James _it's okay dw you didn't know._

'You don't want to stay for breakfast?' asks Sirius, shoving his phone in his pocket. When he looks up Gideon is shaking his head. He notices one side of Gideon's hair sticking up at an unusual angle. It makes him smile.

'You've got company.'

'It's just Remus,' says Sirius, shrugging.

' _Just_ Remus?' teases Gideon, crossing the room to pull Sirius into a warm hug. 'We both know he's not _just_ Remus.' 

Sirius sighs into Gideon's shirt. 

'Look, if it all goes wrong, I'm always around, and you have James and Lily and everyone else,' says Gideon, pulling back. 'Remus is a cool dude but he's not more important than you, you know? Be good to yourself.' 

'You're so nice,' Sirius says, and even though it comes out all sad and heavy, Gideon laughs anyway. Sirius reaches up to try and flatten Gideon's hair, but it springs back under his touch. 

'Come on, out we go,' Gideon instructs, gentle but firm.

James and Remus are in the kitchen. They stop talking when Sirius enters and James shuffles out quickly.

'I'm just going to... yeah,' James says as he goes. 

Remus and Sirius are silent until they hear the closing click of James's bedroom door.

'So. What're you doing here?' asks Sirius, and he supposes he meant it to sound light and conversational, but he also doesn't care that is comes out a little too harshly instead.

'I came to see you,' Remus answers, as though that really explains anything. Sirius wishes he was still in bed and pours himself a cup of coffee, back turned to Remus.

'I talked to Marlene last night,' Remus says when Sirius doesn't respond. 

'Okay?' 

'Sirius can you at least look at me?' asks Remus, frustrated. 

Sirius turns around, and raises his eyebrows. Just for the hell of it, you know.

'She said something to me.'

Sirius rolls his eyes. 'That's usually how conversations work, Remus. Do you have a point because like, you kind of already got in the way of my morning, so?'

Remus looks hurt and Sirius wishes he could make himself not care. 

'Sorry,' Remus says, 'if I'd have known I wouldn't have come over. But, uh, I do have a point. Marlene kind of talked to me about you?'

Oh. Oh no.

'Okay please don't be upset with her,' Remus says quickly, taking in the expression on Sirius's face. 

'What did she say?'

'She was pretty drunk, but uh, she told me off. For not being nicer to you? Like she kept asking if I think I'm too good for you or something and I just... I don't really understand. And I kept telling her that I didn't understand but she told me I was lying and was like _be nicer_.'

'Fucking hell,' Sirius mutters, rubbing his hand over his eyes. 

'Eventually Dorcas took her home. But look, Sirius, I'm sorry I got pissed off at you last night. I mean, you made me angry but Marlene was really kind of laying into me so I assume I really upset you? I don't know, I didn't mean it _that_ badly, you know?'

'Uh, Marlene didn't even know know about that,' says Sirius without thinking. 

Wait, shit. No. He should have just gone with it-

'What? Then what was she talking about?' Remus asks, frowning. 'When am I not nice?'

'I don't know. Don't worry about it. Marlene says a lot of things when she's drunk.'

 'Yeah, she says a lot of things that are _true_. She doesn't just make stuff up for drama. Just, why would she think I think I'm _too good_ or whatever?' Remus is staring at him with such an imploring expression, wide-eyed and innocent, and something in it makes Sirius angry. Again.

'Like you don't _know_ , Remus. Don't look at me like you honestly have no idea where any of this is coming from,' says Sirius, and when he places his untouched cup of coffee on the counter it's accidentally forceful, spilling liquid over the rim.

'I don't!' Remus's voice pitches higher when he's upset. _Good_ , Sirius thinks when he hears it. Good. 

'I don't have the energy for this, Remus, I've barely slept-'

Sirius tries to exit the kitchen but Remus stands, rounds the kitchen bench, and cuts him off.

'Yeah, because you were fucking Gideon? After you get all upset because I was _talking_ to Kingsley and you know, somehow I'm the one who isn't being _nice_ enough?' Remus laughs, an absurd, hollow laugh that doesn't suit him.

'Christ, you're nice, all right?' replies Sirius. 'I never said you weren't, _Marlene_ did, when she shouldn't have been saying _anything_. Okay? You're nice. You're really fucking nice.'

Remus sighs. 'Why were you so jealous anyway?' he asks.

'I wasn't,' lies Sirius. 

'You know, Kingsley _was_ kind of hitting on me, but I wanted to go home with you. I was going to go home with you.' Remus bites his lip with a small frown of his face and maybe it's the unfulfilled tease of Gideon earlier or the fact that he's tired or the way this literally always happens when he's with Remus, but he feels suddenly overwhelmed with desire.

'Sorry,' Sirius says, and it feels like surrender. 'I was a prick last night.'

 

-

 

'Faster,' pants Remus and Sirius obeys, picks up the pace. 

He would do anything Remus asked. 

Remus pushes his head back into the pillow and moans, the pale arch of his neck beautifully exposed. Sirius has left a trail of marks down Remus's neck, and his lips ghost over them now. His hand grips Remus's hip and he shifts, adjusting the angle slightly and-

' _Fuck_ ,' breathes Remus.

And it's unfair, profoundly unfair, how Remus looks right now and how he comes undone like this and how this is going to be the last time Sirius is going to get to see it. Because he can't keep doing this anymore. 

 

-

 

'How long's it been since you last talked to him?' asks Peter. They're in the library, and Sirius half-reasons this is grounds enough to ignore Peter. 

'Sirius? Because it's getting ridiculous, you know. I don't think Remus is happy.'

'Well isn't that just the end of the world,' mutters Sirius, rolling his eyes, but Peter is looking at him expectantly so Sirius sighs. 'It's been like, two weeks. But it's not like we talk all the time anyway.'

Which maybe isn't necessarily true. They used to text each other most days, a few messages here and there. A link, a joke, an _are you home?_ Or they would see each other out, wind up at the same parties because they mostly had the same friends. Sirius had been avoiding them all as a way to escape seeing Remus.  

'Can't you just talk to him? Please?' 

'Honestly Pete? I think... I don't know. I think we might be done.' Sirius hasn't said it out loud yet to anyone, and his voice catches in his throat. Fucking Peter. Sirius really doesn't want to cry in the library.

'Wait... for real?' asks Peter, reaching out a hand to rest on Sirius's arm.

'For real.' Sirius nods his head once and clenches his jaw.

'Sirius I didn't know, I'm really sorry, I thought you were just arguing or something. I didn't know it was that bad.'

'We just... I think we want different things and I can't keep going like we were. But I _would_ if I talked to him or saw him. I'd just cave.'

Peter nods sympathetically. 'Okay. Pack up your stuff, we're going.'

'Pete I have this essay-'

'You've written five words in the past hour. Come on, study break.'

 

-

 

Study break involved getting high with Peter, James, and Lily back at the flat while they invented an idea for a new children's programme. Something about a whale that wears a feather boa? Sirius couldn't really remember.

It was nice. 

Sirius loves his friends, and he loves Remus, probably. 

Remus would have remembered their idea.

 

-

 

Hanging out with Gideon is simple. Gideon is always laughing and never looks at Sirius as though he's too much or not enough and he doesn't make Sirius think about those infinite, eternal questions. Gideon lives effortlessly in every moment and carries everyone else with him. Even Sirius, who is always living in moments that don't even exist.

It is simple, but it isn't always enough. 

Sirius misses Remus. He misses their conversations, the way Remus contributes a point of view that takes Sirius's mind somewhere he would never have gone on his own. Remus challenges him and teases him and reaches some part inside of himself that no one else does.

Or, well, he challenged and teased and reached. Past tense and all that.

How anyone could think time is anything but linear is unfathomable to Sirius at the moment. 

 

-

 

Sirius is studying in his room, highlighting phrases with what he hopes is some amount of care and relevance, pausing to type out notes on his computer every now and again, when he hears knocking on the front door of the flat. 

'I'll get it,' shouts Lily.

Faintly, he can hear murmuring voices, but it's background noise when he's re-absorbed into his work. 

Then suddenly his bedroom door is flying open and his first thought is maybe Marlene has come over, but when he looks up it's definitely not Marlene.

Sirius blinks, clutching his highlighter. 

'A bit of a dramatic entrance for you, isn't it?' he asks Remus, who is standing in his doorway, hand still resting on the doorknob, a frown on his face.

'Why are you ignoring me?' Remus asks, tone somewhere between hurt and anger. 

'Remus!' comes Lily's voice, definitely angry. 'I told you to go.'

Remus responds by stepping further into Sirius's room and closing the door. Lily pounds on it from the outside.

'I'll go if you want me to,' says Remus above the knocking, his back pressed against the door. Remus's cheeks are dusted pink and his hair looks wind-tousled and he still has his coat on. He looks great. Fuck him.

'Why are you here?'

Sirius's phone buzzes, and it's Lily.

_Are you okay I can get someone to make him go???_

_It's fine_ , he replies. _Just give us a min._

No more knocking and the sound of receding footsteps.

'Well?' Sirius prompts when Remus doesn't respond.

'I haven't heard from you, you won't reply to me, no one will tell me anything when I ask them about you. Did I do something?'

Sirius's instinct is to run his hand through his hair, but he's piled it up into a bun to study, so he rubs at his forehead instead. 

'You didn't do anything,' he says, staring at the papers on his desk.

'Then why are you ignoring me?'

'You really can't get the hint?'

'Stop answering my questions with more questions,' snaps Remus. 'If you don't want to see me anymore then just say so.'

Sirius breathes. In, out. 'Of course I want to see you. But I can't.'

'Why?' Remus practically whines, and his back is still pressed up against the door. Sirius considers offering him the bed to sit on, but it's a bad idea. He can stand.

'Because.'

Remus sighs, heavy, and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. Great.

' _Because_ ,' says Sirius, 'I'm tired of it. We sleep together, you're like _okay see ya_. We talk sometimes. Like? What is that? It's nothing.'

Which is a lie. It's not nothing. It's just not enough. 

'Nothing?' echoes Remus quietly. 

Sirius just stares at him. He doesn't have anything left to say. 

'If that's how you feel, then, okay I guess.' Remus stands, walks to the door. He pauses, though, and Sirius can see Remus's shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. Then he turns back around.

'You know,' Remus begins, 'I don't stay or I let you leave or whatever because I thought you wouldn't want me to stay. Or that you wouldn't want to stay. And I want to talk to you all the fucking time but I don't want to be annoying and I don't want to get any more attached.' Remus shrugs and sighs and looks very, very tired. 

Sirius feels frozen, staring at Remus, who isn't looking at him but down at his shoes instead. 

'Fuck it,' Remus says, seemingly to himself, and then, 'I really like you, Sirius. I mean, I guess it doesn't matter but like, I don't know how you could expect me _not_ to. Sometimes it literally makes me _angry_ because like, I don't know. Like you say that talking to me is _torture_ and then I think everything's fine and then suddenly I don't hear from you for weeks. I just don't... But you know, you're right. This is nothing. Whatever.'

'You _like_ me?' It's all Sirius can think to say. He can hear how incredulous he sounds. 'As in, more-than-friends or whatever-the-hell _like?_ '

Remus still isn't looking at him. 'Yeah. Sorry. I know it's stupid but it's not even- it's not important. I hate not talking to you, I don't even care about the rest. I want to be your friend.' Remus shrugs, lifting his chin, finally, to make eye contact. 'If you don't feel comfortable then I get it.'

' _Remus_ ,' says Sirius, and he's never quite experienced this feeling before. At first he thinks he's falling apart, his heart is racing and his grip on his highlighter is slick with sweat, but there's something else to it. 'Remus, _I_ like _you_.' 

And Sirius isn't sure how all this is meant to feel, maybe bigger and brighter and like everything suddenly makes sense, but mostly there is confusion. 

'You like me?' asks Remus. 'Like, as a friend?'

'No. I mean, _yes_. But also like, more than friends.'

Remus looks a bit faint as he strides back over to Sirius's bed and sits down. His shoulders are hunched down and he stares at his hands. 'More than friends,' Remus says, and it's a statement, an echo. 

'Obviously,' says Sirius, and despite everything, Sirius can feel a surge of laughter swelling in his chest. He pushes it down.

' _Not_ obviously,' Remus replies with a questioning little frown. 

The sit staring at each other for a moment, Sirius in his desk chair, Remus on the edge of the bed. 

'Since when?' asks Remus after a moment.

Sirius tries to think, but time and memory fade together, hazy and unhelpful, providing nothing concrete. He comes up blank. 'I don't know. There wasn't a specific moment. You've always been...' Sirius searches for the word, finds it, and feels slightly embarrassed, but says it anyway, 'intoxicating.' He rubs his neck. 'You're not someone who can just be compartmentalised, Remus. You're so... everything. You know?'

Remus is shaking his head and his cheeks are flushed again - or more? - a rosy pink. 'That's... I feel that way about _you_.'

Remus is still shaking his head and when he starts to bounce his knee jerkily, Sirius stands, dropping the highlighter on his desk, and sits on the bed next to Remus. 

'Stop shaking your head,' says Sirius gently, reaching out a hand, placing it on Remus's cheek, turning his head. Remus stills, and looks at Sirius. 

'This has all been so ridiculous.' Remus smiles, and it's the first time he's smiled since he came flying into Sirius's room and it's such a _relief_ , Sirius didn't even realise how missing it had been, and maybe, just maybe, that bigger and brighter feeling is starting to creep in. Sirius smiles back.

'It has,' he agrees. 

Remus raises his hand to trail his fingers over the hand Sirius still has resting against Remus's cheek, his fingers trailing down to Sirius's wrist. 

And then Remus leans in, and it's so gentle now, the way Sirius is being kissed. Sirius kisses back, and it's slow and questioning and perfect.

 

-

 

Three months later.

Remus is curled around Sirius's side when they wake to the sound of Sirius's alarm. 

'Morning,' says Sirius, feeling Remus stir.

'No,' says Remus into his neck, sidling up closer to Sirius, tightening the arm he has around Sirius's waist.

Remus is terrible in the mornings, Sirius has found. Also, he is obsessed with the moon and eats a truly astounding amount of chocolate and likes to braid Sirius's hair. He has a scar on his leg from the time a dog bit him as a child and he still has nightmares about it sometimes. 

At some point, Remus noticed the way Sirius stares off into space sometimes and now he knows to get Sirius to play the senses game, and he smiles so patiently and helps Sirius keep count while he dazedly comes to, listing what he can see, smell, hear, taste, and touch. 

('I can see... your hands... um... I can see... a window... and... that pen...' he looks around, there are lots of things here, some part of him knows this, 'a painting... um... the vase.')

'We have class,' says Sirius, stroking Remus's hair. He still doesn't have the heart to push Remus away, and Remus makes a sleepy noise and presses a kiss to Sirius's neck and Sirius supposes the beating of his own heart must mean something after all. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't too heavy!!! I will write something sweet next time, I hope. 
> 
> I am stardustings on tumblr if you're interested as well.


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